


NFWMB

by MobMode



Series: MobMode's Fic Requests [1]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 2018), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Crime Fighting, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Rescue, Violence, these tags make this fic seem much worse than it rly is i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 01:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20301385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MobMode/pseuds/MobMode
Summary: “Mister… Starling…?” he groans, the blow to his head making it hard to struggle as he’s flipped onto his back, and he might be out of it but he still gasps when he sees the familiar angry glare staring down at him, seething with rage.“NO! I... am Negaduck!” he shouts in his face, Drake’s head pounding with pain.





	NFWMB

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JudyG710](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudyG710/gifts).

> Gift fic for JudyG710 who is awesome!!!!! She wanted a daring/romantic rescue between these two and I hope I delivered!
> 
> Hope you enjoy, comments and kudos much appreciated!

It’s a fairly normal patrol night in St. Canard for Darkwing Duck and his partner/husband, Launchpad McQuack, who are taking a break from the occasional purse robbery and mugging to sit on top of the Thunderquack and look over the city. The fearsome caped crusader shrugs off his bigger than life superhero persona, stepping back into Drake McQuack as he presses closer into his partner’s side, sapping his warmth as the cool night air chills his feathers. Launchpad presses a quick kiss to his temple, looping an arm around his shoulders and sighing, enjoying the fact that they could take these brief moments to themselves.

“What a nice night,” Drake hums, playing with the hat in his hands, fussing over any wear and tear he could find on it.

“Yeah,” the pilot says, leaning back to tilt his head up and peer at the night sky, “You excited for Gosalyn’s game tomorrow?” Drake’s expression brightens just at the mention of their daughter.

“Heck yeah! I called in a few favors and Gizmoduck is gonna have the city covered for us so I can be there.” he explains, placing his hat back on his head. Over the years his petty jealousy had toned down a bit so he and the other superhero worked together more often than they argued. Now, as an established name in the city, he didn’t feel as threatened at the thought of Fenton swooping in and saving the day from time to time, plus he was a nice guy so he couldn’t have hated him for too long.

Before either of them can continue the conversation, which would have likely turned into talking about how much they loved their daughter, a loud _ boom _ echoes through the air, both jumping at the sudden record scratch in their calm night. A second explosion causes a few buildings around them to shake, and a pillar of smoke is quick to billow over the city skyline from a few blocks away, and Drake curses when he realizes it’s got to be the St. Canard Bank. They share a look and nod as they jump back into the Thunderquack, Drake steeling himself for what could possibly be a big fight, it wasn’t your average everyday criminal that decided to break into the biggest bank in the city.

As they fly closer to the source of the smoke, Drake’s stomach drops as he takes in the extent of the explosion, a giant hole blown in the front of the bank, charred bits of debris flaming all about. Launchpad flies down closer to the ground to let him jump out before turning around to find a safe spot to park the Thunderquack, Drake running all about the wreckage to find out if there was anyone caught in the blast. Luckily no one happened to be walking by when it happened, but as he steps inside he finds a security guard on the ground, unconscious and with blood oozing from a wound on their forehead, their feathers dyed red.

He sighs a breath of relief when he checks their pulse and finds they’re alright, but they would need a visit to the hospital for sure. Launchpad comes running in at that moment, frowning when he catches sight of the wounded guard.

“You make sure they get help while I find who did this,” Drake whispers, not wanting to alert whoever may still be in the bank. Launchpad nods, gingerly picking the bird up and carrying them outside where a crowd of people was rapidly forming, telling them to get back while also asking if anyone was a medical professional. A younger dog steps forward, looking nervous, but she quickly gets to work placing the guard in the recovery position and checking for any other injuries.

Meanwhile, inside, Darkwing stalks quietly through the bank, familiar enough with the layout thanks to an attempted robbery a few months ago that he finds the main vault, it’s door cracked open. After a quick peek through the small opening, Drake steps in slowly, finding the room empty save for a hole blown into the ground, leading into the sewers below. Sighing in frustration as he realizes he must have just missed the criminal, Darkwing turns around only to find the vault has been shut, raising an eyebrow and immediately going on edge since he knows it was open when he came in.

Giving the vault another quick glance around but finding nothing and no one, he pushes at the handle to the vault, the door opening just a smidge until a weight is suddenly dropped on him, sending him flailing to the ground with a grunt, struggling with his attacker until they speak.

“Ha! Gotcha, Movie star!” 

Drake goes stiff at the voice above him, a voice that he’d never thought he’d ever hear again outside of his and Launchpad’s Darkwing Duck rewatches. Suddenly, something is _ cracking _him in the side of his head, making it very hard to think about that voice as his vision doubles.

“Mister… Starling…?” he groans, the blow to his head making it hard to struggle as he’s flipped onto his back, and he might be out of it but he still gasps when he sees the familiar angry glare staring down at him, seething with rage.

“NO! I... am Negaduck!” he shouts in his face, Drake’s head pounding with pain.

“What’re you- doing?” Darkwing grits out, breath caught in his throat at the punch to the gut he gets as answer.

“It’s all your fault! Yours!” Jim screams, and Drake tries curling up to protect himself but he’s kicked in the ribs, crying out at the burst of pain.

“Drake?!” comes a voice from outside the vault, and Darkwing smiles weakly when he recognizes it as Launchpad, but another kick has him wheezing in pain, trying to wrap his arms around his chest when he realizes he’s been handcuffed, the self-proclaimed ‘Negaduck’ giving him a sinister grin before he gets up, walking over to the door to close it up tight.

But he doesn’t get the chance to shut the door to the vault as it bursts open suddenly, Launchpad barreling through with an expression so severe it makes Jim recoil a bit, yelping when he’s lifted up by the front of his jacket and flinching at the fist about to punch his daylights out. He’s still conscious though after a moment, eyes squinting open to find that fist inches from his face, and his former fan is looking at him with an incredulous stare.

“Jim?”

He falters for a second, staring at the man in his hold in disbelief until a foot swings forward to connect with his stomach, making Launchpad drop him as he doubles over in pain with a hiss. He can’t move fast enough, watching in shock as the idol thought previously dead scurries over to grab his bound husband, throwing him over his shoulder then making his escape into the hole in the ground Launchpad had not noticed yet.

“No!” he cries when his brain catches up to what’s happened, running over to the ledge and looking down with a pained expression. He can hear police sirens growing closer outside, and knows that if they find him here they’ll hound him with questions for so long he’ll _ never _find Drake, so he leaps down after them, bracing himself as he comes crashing down in mystery liquid with a splash.

He sets off down the way Jim headed, his blood running cold when he finds Drake’s hat after a little bit of walking, picking it up and running his fingers over the soft fabric, continuing his search with a determined glare. Every second feels like a lifetime without Drake by his side, and the fact that he has no idea what he’s walking through right now doesn’t phase him as his mind is focused on much more pressing matters. He comes to a split in the path, cursing as neither looks particularly promising, until he hears his husband’s voice coming from one, but it doesn’t bring the usual rush it always does, as he’s clearly in pain.

Launchpad tries to move as quickly but as quietly as possible, not wanting to rush into a situation he’s not ready for and just endanger the both of them, sliding along the walls until the tunnel he’s in opens up into a larger chamber. Lingering at the mouth of the chamber, Launchpad peers around the corner, taking in his surroundings. The room looks as though someone’s been living there, food scraps and packaging tossed around on the floor, a dingy looking refrigerator sitting in the corner, and a pile of blankets on the floor, which Launchpad guessed served as the inhabitant’s bed.

The next thing his eyes lock onto makes him see red, as Drake is pinned to the wall by the handcuffs, which are hooked on a nail above him so he hangs slightly off the floor. Jim stands in front of him, yelling something before punching him in the stomach, and Launchpad feels like he’s taken the hit himself. Shaking with fury, Launchpad slowly sneaks forward and closer to his husband, fists raised and at the ready.

Drake blinks through the tears filling his eyes, pain coursing through his body and letting him know he was going to be covered in bruises tomorrow, when something in the corner of his vision catches his attention. Lifting his head sluggishly, he hopes he hides his surprise when he sees Launchpad creeping forward, his gaze locked on Jim, who’s too busy ranting about how Drake ruined his entire life to pay attention.

Finally close enough to strike, Launchpad grabs Jim by the back of his shirt, picking him up effortlessly then throwing him to the side, putting himself between Drake and the other duck. Jim stumbles and skids across the floor in surprise, regaining his footing and staring at Launchpad with wide eyes. His surprise quickly turns to anger at being so rudely interrupted, and he rushes at Launchpad with a shrill battle cry. 

He doesn’t get too close to the taller duck, however, as Launchpad’s fist connecting with his beak has him out cold, sprawled out on the floor in a heap.

Shaking his fist out, the dull ache he feels is quickly forgotten, turning to Drake and talking a mile a minute as he asks him where he hurts and if he’s alright, all while he wraps his arms around Drake’s waist and lifts him up carefully. He unhooks him from off the wall so his tired arms fall limp, encircling his neck, and his rapid fire questions are silenced as Drake connects their beaks in a lazy kiss, stealing Launchpad’s breath.

“You came for me…” Drake murmurs when he pulls away, and while Launchpad would normally kiss his husband a few hundred times more, the far off, disoriented look in his eyes has him concerned.

“Of course I did, now, where are you hurt?” he asks, worry clear in his voice as he pulls the both of them to sit on the ground, lifting Drake’s still cuffed arms from around his neck, his hands hovering over the smaller duck who seemed so much smaller now, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he already has been.

“My wrists,” Drake says, raising his hands to show the feathers beneath the cuffs were broken and rubbed raw, “My head hurts like hell, too… and my ribs, they might be bruised.” he winces when he says this, his body finally deciding to remind him how much everything hurt now the adrenaline rush was over.

Looking over at where Jim is still unconscious, Launchpad goes over to search his pockets, glaring at him with barely concealed anger the entire time, until he touches something cold and metal and comes back with a key. Unlocking his beloved from the cuffs, the pilot throws them as far away as he can manage as if they’ve burned him, and he frets over Drake’s bruised wrists, tears building in his eyes when he takes in just how bruised and hurt he looks overall.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he sobs, cupping Drake’s face in his hands and bumping their beaks together, hoping that was apology enough for letting this happen to him.

“Shh, Honey… I’m alright now, thanks to you,” his husband soothes, nuzzling into one of the hands resting against his cheek.

“Still I- I’m sorry,” Launchpad sniffles as he leans forward to press their foreheads together.

“Hush, let’s just get out of here,” Drake hums, some of the pain fading already just from being in Launchpad’s arms.

“Yeah, right after we take care of… Jim?”

Hearing the confusion in his voice, Darkwing turns in his arms to find the actor has disappeared without a trace, and not for the first time.

At Gosalyn’s hockey game the next day, Launchpad and Drake sit in the stands cheering and screaming in support of their little girl, probably the loudest parents there judging by the dirty looks they get from everyone else. Even with his ribs bruised and a bandage around his head, Drake is screaming profanities at the other team just like he always does whenever they go to Gos’ games, and Launchpad admires him from his seat next to his husband.

Sensing the eyes watching him, Drake turns to the pilot, blushing when he sees the fond smile directed at him, “What? Do I have something on my face?” he asks, rubbing his hand around his beak in search of a mess that didn’t exist. His long shirt sleeve slips down in the process to reveal the bandages around his wrists, Launchpad’s blood boiling just thinking about what put them there, and he grabs one of his hands to rub his thumb over his bandages.

He shakes his head, both to clear his thoughts and tell Drake he was fine, “No, I’m just glad you’re safe.” he says, pressing a kiss to his hand.

The tender moment is broken when one of the kids from the other team shoulder checks Gosalyn, nearly sending her spinning across the ice, and Drake erupts from his seat to scream expletives that make the other parents gasp.


End file.
